


Love as a Construct

by Husaria



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Near Future, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-07 23:02:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4281291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Husaria/pseuds/Husaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Decades in the future, distance has grown between Poland and Lithuania. Poland, a great power rising from the ashes of an economically weak Europe, seeks to restart his relationship with Lithuania despite his century-long doubt; Lithuania, now the strongest of the Baltic states, is torn between finding security with Poland and keeping his national sovereignty. A series of horrifying events will test the bond between them and determine once and for all if their love is genuine or a false construction of their past union.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dear Mr. Łukasiewicz

At two in the morning, the skyline of downtown Vilnius shone through Lithuania’s window. Company after company had erected their buildings and offices downtown across the river in the past few decades, soaring above Lithuania’s modest flat on the fourth floor, and the other buildings in the old town. They were quite a distance away, enough to give Lithuania peace while he slept. But sometimes, like now, he stopped what he was doing and looked out the windows, mesmerized by the very idea that his own city turned into this. The city on a hill with a wolf in Gediminas’ imagination had become one of the most prominent capitals in all of Europe.

So while the skyscrapers lit up, another light required Lithuania’s attention. This one came from his computer screen, a half-written e-mail to Poland that he should have sent two hours ago.

With a groan, Lithuania rubbed his eyes and swiveled his chair back to his desk. His fingers tapped the thin metallic keyboard, his mind a mixture of Lithuanian words he needed to translate. Polish came naturally to him as the second most widely spoken language in his country, but his tired mind made it harder to think. Maybe if it were a letter it’d be easier. He enjoyed handwriting a letter more than typing an e-mail. But this message needed to be seen by Poland no later than the following morning. He could have had it done in less than five minutes if he spoke his message out loud and the computer wrote out his words and sent it that way, but no. He _needed_ to write this out. Lithuania procrastinated on writing it all day. With the deadline looming ahead of him and the hands on his wall clock moving, this was the last thing he wanted to do. 

_Dear Mr. Łukasiewicz,_

_I understand your concerns about the Polish minority in Lithuania. They are Polish people and Lithuanian citizens. As an ethnic minority, they are afforded the greatest protections and freedoms given by the state, the Eastern European Community, and the United Nations. However, I must disagree with your call to breakup the protests. I have observed these protesters and they are gathered peacefully and non-disruptively. The use of force to terminate these protests would not only be unconstitutional, but also prove to them that their cause is in the right. As stated in Article 36 in the Lithuanian Constitution:_

_“Citizens may not be prohibited or hindered from assembling in unarmed peaceful meetings. This right may not be subjected to any restrictions except those which are provided by law and are necessary to protect the security of the State or the community, public order, people's health or morals, or the rights and freedoms of other persons.”_

_These protesters are not harming any Polish people. They are exercising their right to protest and assembly. None of them are armed and there have been no threats made to the Polish minority of Lithuania nor to the Polish state itself. Whether or not we both personally agree or disagree with their protests is another matter entirely. For now, the Lithuanian police or military will not break up these protests. They can grow as large as they wish so long as they are not disruptive or violent._

_Sincerely,_

_Toris Laurinaitis_

Lithuania twisted his mouth and read the e-mail again. All those hours drinking coffee and pacing and watching the skyline ended in a three paragraph e-mail— _two_ , if you discounted Article 36. He should add something else, something to make the message solid. He clicked beneath the final paragraph and wrote another.

_I have spoken with Yekaterina Chernenko, Raivis Galante, and Natalya Arlovskaya, and all four of us agree to do nothing about the protests in our respective countries unless they intensify. Please take this into consideration the next time we meet so that tempers won’t flare. At the last conference six months ago, Ukraine would have thrown her tablet at Poland if Latvia and Belarus didn’t restrain her. There was only another time long ago Lithuania had seen her so furious…_

Lithuania reread the paltry e-mail before adding one last sentence.

_I will be attending the EEC meeting next week in Warsaw, along with my EEC delegation and President. We will not be late._

He deleted that sentence and wrote something else.

 _I shall be attending the EEC meeting next week in Warsaw. My President and I wish to propose a topic for this meeting. We apologize for the suddenness of this, but we believe it is of the utmost importance. Many members of the Lithuanian Parliament would wish to bring up the influence of..._ The name was on the tips of his fingers but he wouldn’t dare type it. He settled on a safer alternative.

_...the influence of the Community in Lithuanian foreign and defense affairs. I understand that the purpose of this is to strengthen our borders and boost our economy, at the expense of our personal economic autonomy._

_However, I am worried that in the end this will compromise all of our security and this union will, instead of helping, hurt us instead. I have spoken with the representatives of Latvia, Belarus, and Ukraine, and they too call into question the methods of the Union. I wish to have a discussion about this during the meeting. I’m sure the others feel the same._

_The President of Lithuania, her cabinet, and I have already come up with talking points for the available topics and cannot wait to share them next week._

_I will be online tomorrow for our weekly five-way chat. I hope that our discussion on the file you sent me will be constructive._

His groaned as he remembered the well over 1000 page document that Poland sent him and the others last week. Even while reading that, he managed to get in bed before ten in the evening. His stomach sank at the memory of that file; the protesters would go berserk if any news of it slipped out.

_I give you my sincerest greetings and hope you are well._

_Sincerely,_  
_Toris Laurinaitis  
_ _Representative of the Republic of Lithuania_

That was all? So short. One, two, five paragraphs. He lost precious sleep over _this_? When he put his mind to it, it took him only a half-hour to write. 

With a sigh Lithuania figured he could do nothing to help this short e-mail. He shook his head and cursed his brevity—but what else could he tell Poland?

He read it over. Everything looked right, or it did to his half-asleep mind. But something about the tone of the letter didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t find what. This was a formal letter, so a formal tone was appropriate! He had written formal letters to Poland before, so why did this one feel foreign and wrong?

 _Dear Mr. Łukasiewicz_ —what else could he have written? He couldn’t have written _Dear Poland_ : what if the e-mail was intercepted? _Dear Feliks_ sounded too informal for a letter such as this.

_To my darling Polska—_

Lithuania shook his head, red rising in his cheeks. He had no idea why he thought of that salutation; he hadn’t used it in over 400 years. Back in the Commonwealth it was appropriate, even expected between them.

He sent the e-mail. The final timestamp was _7 August 2043, 02:17_. 

Lithuania got out of his chair, turned off his computer and crawled into bed. He threw the covers over himself and fell asleep.

And when he dreamed, he smelled the memory of rye.


	2. The Shadow of Discord

A few hours later Poland closed out Lithuania’s e-mail in disgust. 

He flipped through his other e-mails—a video update from his boss about the meeting today interrupted his scrolling. Angry at Lithuania’s message and having read through all his others Poland closed the application and put his tablet on his nightstand. 

With a sigh, Poland went through his daily routines: shower, breakfast, his news apps. The new surge of power going through him confirmed the story of the złoty growing stronger against the German Mark and British Pound. However, he frowned when he reached the international page. The biggest headline spoke of the protests in the other nations of the Eastern European Community. 

Poland brushed his teeth before sitting at his desk and opening his e-mail there in case of new updates. He sat at his desk and waited to be contacted for today’s informal meeting. 

With increasing trepidation, Poland brought up the one e-mail sent by his boss that was sure to cause problems. The e-mail was a series of back and forth replies between his Minister of Economy, a few currency experts, some words from his President and finally ending in a 1046 page PDF sent by the President of the EEC’s Commission for the Economy detailing the proposed currency peg. 

Poland configured his tomography camera on top of his computer. The small circular projector right next to the ceiling light in his room blinked green. He waited a few more minutes, holding his tea close to his chest and adjusting the tomogram sensor on his shirt. 

His phone alarm went off, and Lithuania appeared in the room sitting on Poland’s bed. 

“Hey,” Poland said, shutting off his alarm in the middle of the first stanza of Dąbrowski’s Mazurka. “You’re the first one here.” 

Lithuania’s tomogram was imperfect—the edges of his outline were faded and his eyes were blue for some reason—but he was still in color. He looked like a tree with his slightly disheveled light green shirt and khaki pants. 

“Hello as well,” Lithuania said. He raised a hand to his mouth and yawned. The tomogram even captured the bags under his eyes. 

“Up late?” He wasn’t stupid. He read the time stamp on Lithuania’s e-mail. 

“Yes,” Lithuania responded. “I was reading that document you forwarded to all of us.” 

“Oh?” Poland smiled a little. “What do you think about it?” 

“I…” Lithuania raised a mug of coffee to his lips. Poland noticed with amusement that it had wolves on it. “My people will not be behind it. Most of my ministers will argue against it next week.” 

Poland frowned. “Don’t tell me that Loopy minister of yours is coming to Warsaw next week. He _hates_ Poles.” 

“His name is Laukaitis, and he doesn’t _hate_ Poles. He’s my Minister of National Defense! He _has_ to come.” He sighed. “It’s too early to do this.” 

Lithuania set his coffee down, and Poland looked at his phone. Latvia sent him a message saying that he would be ten minutes late due to filing some paperwork. He heard nothing from Ukraine or Belarus. 

Across the room on Poland’s bed, Lithuania flipped through his phone. Lithuania’s tomogram might have been ten steps away, but there was an ocean between the two of them. 

“Are you also getting that heat wave?” Poland asked. 

“Sorry?” Lithuania set his phone down somewhere; it disappeared from his tomogram. “Oh, the weather? Yes, it’s going to be in the high thirties in Vilnius by the end of this week.” 

“Same here.” 

Lithuania nodded and picked up his phone again. Poland turned his chair to do the same, but he swiveled around again. 

“Hey…” 

Lithuania looked up. “Yes?” 

“Um.” Poland scratched the back of his head. “You know that two hour break we have between the economic and security meeting next week? Do you…I don’t know want to get a cup of coffee somewhere or…?” 

“Oh thank God, no one else is here.” 

Ukraine’s tomogram suddenly appeared next to Lithuania’s, sitting on the bed. And like Lithuania, she looked exhausted. 

“You’re five minutes late,” Poland said. “What’s up?” 

“Oh hello Lithuania—wait, you _don’t_ know?” Ukraine replied. “Someone threw a brick at an EEC building in Kiev. During a meeting.” 

Poland’s heart jumped, and he leapt to his feet. “The protests are turning _violent_? Who’s responsible? Why isn’t the military—” 

“I’m the last person to say this but _please_ calm down, Poland. It was only one man who did this. He’s been arrested—” 

“Why didn’t I hear about this immediately?” Poland hissed, gripping the arm of his chair. “What if they turned and hurt some of my citi—” 

“ _Poland_.” This time it came from Lithuania, who stood up, hands raised. “ _Calm_ down. Obviously, if no one told you about it, then it’s a minor incident.” 

“True…” Poland let out a long breath and sat back down. He felt a small weight in his grip and turned his hand around. “I broke another chair.” 

“It’s just the arm.” 

“Yeah…” Poland put the broken piece on his desk and turned to the rest of them. “Okay.” He scanned the room. “Hey, like, where are Belarus and Lat—?” 

The image of Latvia flickered into being. Unlike Ukraine or Lithuania who were on the bed, Latvia was sitting in mid-air. 

“—via,” Poland finished. 

“Sorry I’m so late.” The younger country had his long legs stretched out in front of him. His broad torso squished in the presumably small chair he sat in. “My President had a meeting with her cabinet.” 

Poland waved his hands at the words. “That’s not a problem. What _is_ a problem is Bela—” 

“I’ve arrived.” 

Latvia jumped out of his seat. Ukraine and Lithuania swiveled their heads this way and that trying to find the source of Belarus’ voice. 

“Are you having trouble with the camera again, sister?” Ukraine offered. 

“I know how to work the computer,” Belarus’ voice said. There was the sound of typing, and Belarus’ tomogram popped up next to Poland. This time, she looked like she was sitting on his desk. “We had to set up the generator in the building. The power went out.” 

“That’s really weird,” Poland said. 

Belarus shrugged. “Probably a minor hiccup. We have engineers looking at it.” 

“Okay, okay.” Poland looked around the room. “So, since we’re all here, why don’t we start talking about that document—?” 

Belarus scoffed. 

Poland rolled his eyes. “I’m not happy about reading 1000 pages of that boring stuff either, but—” 

“I think,” Ukraine began, looking down, “is that we all have…ahh, concerns to what’s _inside_ the document, not so much its length.” 

Poland opened his mouth slightly. “Wait, why? This would help all of us.” 

“No one is arguing that this will help our economies. Certainly it will help with competitiveness but there are some downsides.” 

Poland’s eyes widened. Lithuania was the last person he thought would object to it. Maybe that President of his was a little too influential. 

“Our primary concern was our sovereignty.” Ukraine and Latvia curtly nodded at Lithuania’s words. “This could be good for us, but…all of them _pegged_ to the złoty’s exchange rate?” 

“I don’t get what the problem is.” Poland shook his head. He saved Lithuania and Latvia from the Euro, but he refrained from mentioning that. “My economy is doing _fine_ —better than fine—and yours are good too. Why _not_ peg them to mine?” 

“What if something happens to your banks?” Ukraine said. “If you go down, our currency and economies will fall too.”’ 

“Didn’t you learn anything from the Euro?” Latvia said. Indignation surged through Poland at that lanky, ungrateful— 

  
“Shshhshhh!” Lithuania said, waving his arms in front of Latvia’s tomogram. “Haha.” He smiled slightly. “What he’s trying to say is basically what Ukraine said. If you fall, we fall with you.” 

“The economic conditions for a bank collapse are outlined somewhere around page 650—” 

Belarus swiped through the tablet in her lap. “ _You_ can’t even remember what page it’s on?” 

“It’s a long document and don’t you get sassy with me.” Of all the nations present, Belarus should know better than to be snappy with him like that. 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Poland said, also looking through his website. “Okay, it’s on page 643, but it basically says that in the years leading up to the currency peg and after it, we will put more measures to separate the banks from the economy, to prevent what happened in 2008.” 

“Regardless, our currencies are chained to yours if your economy goes down,” Lithuania said. 

Now it was Poland’s turn to scoff. “The złoty won’t go down. At least, not in the near future. I’m healthier than I’ve ever been.” 

“Good to hear that.” 

“Despite that, there’s still a reason that this won’t pass through our Parliaments,” Ukraine said. 

“Why?” 

“We mentioned this earlier,” she said. “It does not respect our sovereignty.” 

“How does it not respect your sovereignty? It’s only a currency peg.” 

“I don’t think you realize what this implies.” Ukraine sighed. “Don’t you see? Our currencies would be fixed to yours instead of floating to how our own economies are doing.” 

“Okay, I know I’m bad at economics but even _I_ know that.” 

And Latvia decided to open his mouth. “Pegging our currency to yours sends a message that you are the leader and we are unequal…What?” 

The only noise in the room came from the humming of the tomogram projector. Lithuania and Ukraine stared down at their shoes. Belarus glared at Poland. Latvia looked blankly back at him, clearly not knowing what he said. 

This had to be a joke. A really, really bad joke, but as Poland scanned the room and saw their embarrassed or defiant expressions, they were nothing but serious. 

“You’re kidding,” Poland seethed. “I pour money into your economies, I help build your infrastructure—” 

“We’re not ungrateful, if that’s what you’re implying,” Ukraine growled. 

“You don’t understand what kind of message this sends across to the rest of the world,” Lithuania said calmly. “Taking into account your historical involvement in…well, _all_ of us, it comes across as you…not only leading us but ruling over us.” 

“Which is why people are protesting,” Ukraine finished. Latvia nodded. 

Poland looked blankly at them. These protesters weren’t only in Lithuania. They were in the others too—Belarus, Latvia, and the biggest protests of all were in Ukraine. Some of them had camped out in Kiev and Kharkov and Vilnius for weeks. More than anything, Poland wanted to shake them and scream at them. Look at how their countries were booming now. Look at how quickly they became one of the wealthiest countries in Europe. 

“Polonization,” Latvia whispered. 

“That’s stupid,” Poland stated. 

Ukraine groaned and put her head in her hands. 

“Poland, you can’t just say something’s stupid when someone presents a valid point,” Lithuania said. 

“Cry about Polonization all you want,” Poland said, ignoring Lithuania’s words. He leaned back in his desk chair and looked at his nails. The nail on his middle finger had chipped after he had broken the armrest. “You know, if it weren’t for me, who knows where all of you would be after the EU broke up.” 

“NATO still exists,” Lithuania snapped. 

Poland raised an eyebrow. First Belarus, now Lithuania. What other surprises would today bring? 

“NATO has nothing to do with economics. Your currencies would be _so_ messed up if it weren’t for me. Hey, Lie—” 

A mental block formed, and he stumbled over his words. His tongue went to the next alternative. 

“—Lithuania, I told you when we first met that I’d help you out. Remember?” He smiled slightly. 

Lithuania narrowed his eyes. “You also said me you’d help me as long as I did what you told me.” 

Poland concentrated on the projector in the middle of the room.“…Well, _yeah_ , but that was _then_.” 

“Are you implying that if we don’t do as you say, you’ll let us fall under Russian influence?” Ukraine said. 

“Kaliningrad is an observing member of the EEC. Russia wouldn’t try anything while Kaliningrad is still there,” Latvia said. 

“ _Thank you, Latvia_. Besides, you all know _my_ history with Russia and I know yours. I don’t want _any_ of you to fall under his control.” 

Warsaw skipped a beat. Poland stared at all of them individually and knowingly—Latvia’s stunted growth for almost 300 years, Belarus nearly torn in half between nationalist and pro-Russian forces after the fall of Lukashenko, the dozens of scars crisscrossing Lithuania’s back, Ukraine’s struggle with her own identity for centuries. 

Ukraine folded her arms. Lithuania sighed. 

“We’re getting nowhere. We should let our politicians decide,” Belarus spoke up. 

“They would never agree to it.” Ukraine stood up. “ _Don’t_ take this personally, Poland, but I’d never agree to be your lapdog again.” 

Poland’s expression soured. Despite Poland’s own size and power, Ukraine was the largest country in the EEC and had the most delegates. Without her support… 

Ukraine shouted something in Ukrainian to someone off-camera. “I’d like to discuss this more but I’m needed in Parliament,” she said in Polish. “You’ll hear from me before the meeting.” 

“Sure thing.” 

Ukraine’s tomogram disappeared, leaving Poland with the other three. 

“Belarus,” Poland swiveled his chair around, “You had the złoty for around ten years. You know how stable it is.” 

“That’s irrelevant. This measure is far too similar to the monetary union with Russia that Lukashenko proposed decades ago. My people are too attached to the taler anyway. Maybe my politicians will have other opinions but so far I don’t see any reason for this. It may help but all of us being pegged to _yours_ …” 

“Okay, okay, I get it, it’s not popular. Maybe your politicians will have a different idea or something. I don’t know.” 

“I have nothing else to contribute to this conversation so I’m leaving. Good bye.” 

“Yeah, bye.” 

Belarus’ tomogram disappeared as well. 

“You’re too influential in Belarusian affairs.” 

Poland whirled on Latvia. “Didn’t Lithuania ever teach you to shut your mouth?” 

“I-I don’t control him!” Lithuania sputtered. 

“I’m _almost_ as tall as him.” Latvia’s hand formed a fist. “Riga is the _biggest_ city in the Baltics. I’m not the little kid that Russia used to push around anymore.” 

“Right.” Latvia in puberty—it was only a matter of time. Still, it wouldn’t do good to upset Latvia too much. After all, the _boy_ was a close friend with Estonia. 

Latvia shook his head. “I don’t think the currency peg is for us. I need to speak to my higher ministers, but for now, put my vote as a probable _No_.” 

He signed off as well. 

“Your 1100 th birthday is in twenty-seven years,” Lithuania said. “But you act as if you’re _only_ twenty-seven.” 

“Oh please, I know better than to piss off Latvia.” Poland scoffed. “His relationship with Estonia is needed. But _damn_ , I had no idea that his puberty would be a wild ride.” 

“If we’re being specific, _you’re_ the cause of his growth spurt. All that aid you gave him after the fall of the EU…” 

“I created this monster.” 

Lithuania scowled. “That’s not very funny.” 

“What? I wasn’t _that_ bad when I was that age.” 

Lithuania snorted. “You locked yourself in your room and wouldn’t come out for _days_ when I told you that I first heard of Sigismund and Barbara’s marriage—may she rest in peace.” 

“I was _so_ mad that he didn’t tell me first! He told me _everything_.” Poland pouted, remembering the fit he threw when he discovered his king hid his wife away from Poland. “You didn’t tell me anything either!” 

“It was a secret marriage. I couldn’t say a word.” 

“You Lithuanians and your…” Poland couldn’t come up with a proper insult for him except, “I really grew to like Barbara though.” 

“I miss her too.” Lithuania shook his head. “Po—” 

Poland laughed. “Maybe Latvia got it from you. You ran away when Jagiełło forced you to convert.” 

“Catholicism back then didn’t appreciate nature.” The corner of Lithuania’s lips curled in a small smile. 

Poland walked over to the bed and sat down next to Lithuania’s tomogram. “Wow, that was a long time ago.” 

“Back when we were actually happy.” Lithuania’s smile vanished. 

“But I thought your national happiness level is on the—” 

“You know what I mean. We were young and life didn’t seem as hard.” 

“I know.” He concentrated on the wooden floorboards. He was Poland. He had plaques on almost every street in Warsaw dedicated to an event in the Uprising. He had a Baroque castle in his Old Town that was less than a century year old. He had pieces of art and jewelry that were returned from Sweden or Russia or Germany after a hard-fought court battle. 

“Are _you_ happy?” Poland asked, looking up. 

“My citizens are satisfied with the direction their country is taking—” 

“You’ve always been a bad liar, and I’m not talking about your citizens.” Poland reached forward to take Lithuania’s hand and forgot Lithuania was a tomogram. 

“Do you like…” Poland found himself unable to meet Lithuania’s eyes and he turned away. “Never mind.” 

“I better go,” Lithuania said suddenly, standing up. “I’m pretty sure my President wants to speak with me about next week’s meeting.” 

Poland rolled his eyes. “Oh joy… _her_.” 

“ _I_ like her,” Lithuania said. “Besides, you have a meeting today, don’t you?” 

“I don’t.” 

“What _are_ you doing today?” 

Poland shrugged. “I don't know.” 

“Maybe you should find something to do. I know how you get when you’re bored.” Poland smiled. “Okay. I’ll be signing off now.” 

“Alright.” Poland’s dry mouth made it hard to speak. “We’re still meeting up for coffee between the economic and security meetings right?” 

“Ah, I forgot about that. Of course we can. Do you have a café in mind or do you want to find a place when I get there?” 

“I’ll think of something.” 

“Well, see you next week, Poland.” 

“Yeah. See you.” 

Lithuania vanished. 

The projector was still green. Poland didn’t move to shut it off. Maybe Lithuania forgot to say something, or maybe his boss decided not to meet with him. The minutes passed and Poland’s mug of tea drained. The birds chirped outside. Lithuania forgot nothing. Poland got up and turned off the projector. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **“Sigismund and Barbara’s marriage”** \- Sigismund August, famously the King of Poland who signed the Union of Lublin into action, had quite the romance with Barbara Radziwiłł, a noblewomen from one of the most powerful Lithuanian families. He married her in secret, despite the fact that future queens of Poland had to be approved by the Sejm. Lithuanian nobles stayed silent once they heard of the marriage. Polish nobles were extremely unhappy with Sigismund’s secret marriage and refused to crown Barbara as queen for years.
> 
>  **“Your 1100th birthday is in twenty-seven years,”** \- In many historians opinions, the Polish state was said to have been founded in 966, when the Polish King Mieszko I adopted Christianity.


End file.
